


Desperate Measures

by 13thDoctor, JHarkness



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, Flirting, M/M, Mild canon divergence, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 16:27:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7180271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13thDoctor/pseuds/13thDoctor, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JHarkness/pseuds/JHarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Jesse is oblivious to Cassidy’s advances, and the one time he finally catches on.</p><p>“I’ve been tryin’ ta do this ta’ right way, with all the courtin’ and whatnot, but you’re a right daft fucker, Jesse Custer.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

If Cassidy was human, he may have begged for an ice pack after the ordeal Jesse put him through while he experimented with his new powers. As it was, he felt the ghost of scrapes and bruises and one small puncture from where he’d landed on a protruding nail.

 

“When I ge’ t’at rough, Padre, I tend to make a safeword,” the vampire jeered with a wide, feral grin.

 

They were lying side by side on the hardwood floor of the church, passing around their fourth cigarette in an hour. The pews were scattered, Cassidy’s jeans torn at the knees, and they were both breathless and wide eyed with discovery.

 

“Mmm,” Jesse murmured. His mind was hours away, still lost in the way his friend was forced to follow his every command. Cassidy rolled his eyes.

 

He watched Jesse inhale and exhale light grey smoke before he held it out to him. Smiling, the vampire accepted it and took a long drag, loving the burn in his throat and lungs. Then he shifted to his side and bent his elbow, balancing his head on it so he could survey Jesse. Shamelessly, his eyes captured the mess of his hair, the shape of his lips, the curve of his lean body. He licked his lips before putting the cigarette back to them.

 

“So you could make me do anything,” he said.

 

Jesse looked at him with a lazy swivel of his head. “Give me that,” he snapped, and snatched back his precious nicotine. Cassidy chuckled gleefully at him, almost drowning out his answer of, “Yeah, I s’pose I can,” which was given more to the ceiling.

“ _ Anything _ ?” Cassidy repeated, stretching so his shirt rode up. He hadn’t spent 119 years on Earth perfecting his flirting skills for nothing, but Jesse was proving his greatest challenge.

“Were you fucking  _ here  _ when I made you  _ fly,  _ Cass? And hand me that cigarette.”

“Alright, don’ shout, point taken,” Cassidy grumbled as he crossed his arms and shifted back to his laying position.

Restless, he kicked his feet around, only succeeding in riding his shirt up further. After one last hopeful glance at his preacher, he petulantly tugged the material back in place, over-exaggerating the action.

“Stop that,” Jesse told him, but it carried none of his overwhelming prowess. He simply sounded weary, but Cassidy longed to wake him back up.

“Make me,” he growled, low and challenging.

 

Jesse scoffed, narrowed his eyes, and finally turned over on his side. Cassidy tried, and probably failed, not too look too excited.  “Haven’t had enough?”

Cassidy scrambled to mirror him. With hooded eyes and wet lips, he murmured, “I coul’ go all day.”

“Well I can’t,” Jesse said. “I need a drink, and you stole all the wine.”

His friend’s face fell instantly, brows knitting together and voice pitching up defensively as he claimed that he paid that back in double. Jesse smiled at him then, that soft one that barely made it across his lips but filled his eyes and drove Cassidy mad.

“Thank you, by the way,” the preacher said while he lit a new cigarette. “I don’t think I said that while I was tossin’ you around.”

“Ooh, my pleasure,” Cassidy replied instantly and genuinely, taking the fresh stick before Jesse could have a taste.

He blew the smoke right in Jesse’s face, as close as shotgunning as he supposed he was going to get. Jesse didn’t even flinch, just extended his free hand through the cloud and took the cigarette straight from the other man’s mouth. When his fingers brushed Cassidy’s lips, he had to resist lapping at them with his very eager tongue.

“This was mine,” Jesse joked as he shifted to lay flat once more.

If he were a braver man, Cassidy would have climbed on top of him and ripped that shirt open. He wanted to run his hands up and down and inside his preacher until the sun came and went. And yet he was stuck beside him, doing absolutely nothing but staring and plucking at the stray threads of his denim jacket.

When an idea came into his head, he let it burst from his tongue with no thought. “I think you owe me some clothes, Padre.”

“Why’s that?” Jesse exclaimed incredulously.

Cassidy sprang into a sitting position and tossed his legs into Jesse’s lap to showcase the evidence--two large holes over his knees, and fraying stitches. The preacher made an unconvincing noise of protest but assessed the damage nonetheless. Cassidy did not wipe the complacent smile from his face.

“You beggin’ charity, Cass?”

Cassidy answered mockingly, “You wouldn’t deny a poor, innocen’ soul like myself, would ya?”

“I most certainly would.”

“Bastard,” Cassidy muttered, but there was no venom, only fondness. “But--but I think it’s only fair if you jus’ give me yours.”

“ _ My  _ clothes _? _ ”

 

“Mmm, yes.” His amusement was a swift, accented bark. His features twisted into a sharp smile, all angles and hard lines unsoftened by the moonlight pouring through the cracks in the ceiling.

Jesse couldn’t help but laugh along; Cassidy’s mirth was always infectious. “You’re actually insane. Should I give my sermon naked?”

“I t’ink that’d be quite the distraction for some of u-- uh, the ladies.”

Cassidy shook his head to clear it; he must have hit it too hard, because he swore he saw a shadow of disappointment, of lost hope, in Jesse’s eyes before the preacher turned away to shake his cigarette pack. “All out,” he said, voice just a bit hoarser.

“Guess I shoul’ go, then,” Cassidy whispered, while making no attempt to stand. This was his perfect opportunity to kiss Jesse, and yet he froze. Instead, the vampire gave his best, crooked smile and wondered if Jesse would close the little gap between them before the tension broke.

“Good night, Cass.” He patted his thigh and slid from beneath him, straightening his shirt as he stood. 

Cassidy remained on the floor, discouraged. He watched as Jesse straightened the pews, the scraping of wood the only sound in the room. His arse was a particularly pleasing view. And then he turned, gave a small wave and accompanying grin, and headed toward the church doors.

“You  _ cannot  _ have all my clothes,” he called as he was almost gone, making Cassidy look up from the floor, “but I will get you new ones. It’s the Christian thing to do.”

And if the vampire wasn’t mistaken, he winked.


	2. Two

Cassidy had attended church before, but never willingly. He was raised Roman Catholic, though some of the other vampires he met over the years attempted to introduce him to other denominations. Generally, the services were the same: Confess your sins, repent, stand and sit and sit and stand until your thighs were sore. The confessing part was always his favorite. On a memorable occasion, he had even made the priest drop the holy book itself.

 

Willingly sitting in the pews of the All Saints Congregational Church made Cassidy’s skin itch. But Jesse was there, so he was there, looking as non-Christian as clothing would allow. Really, he ought to be sleeping. Or drinking. The sun was high, bathing the churchgoers in a nearly angelic glow. Cassidy snorted.

 

The service wasn’t terrible. He enjoyed listening to Jesse talk. Emily played her little bit, and people prayed. Cassidy tuned most of it out, bowing his head awkwardly only when everyone else did. But one eye always remained squinted open, staring at the preacher. Staring at the spots on his hair still sticking up from sleep and his words forming around the verses and his goddamn hands shuffling notes and emphasizing themes. Cassidy though about flattening those unruly strands, mouthing those words against his lips with him, kissing those hands to stop their ceaseless action.

 

Cassidy coughed, shaking his head at himself. Usually his crushes didn’t come so fast, but Jesse had hit him with the same force of a 30,000 foot free fall.

 

The service ended with a quick prayer, and then Jesse was ushering people to the barbeque outside. As an afterthought, he repeated for perhaps the fifth time a request that  the sign be left alone. Cassidy thought he should start including that at the beginning, or injecting just a little more force into it.

 

While everyone went to the doors, Cassidy weaved his way through to the altar. To his preacher. He wasn’t exactly sure when he had started thinking of Jesse in terms of _his,_ but he liked the smile that graced his lips whenever he did, so he stuck with it.

 

“I was surprised to see you awake,” Jesse noted with a chuckle when he saw Cassidy.

 

“Ha, awake t’is a loose term for it, Padre.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I, uh…” He tried to hang his head, look guilty. It really wasn’t his style. “Could I borrow ya for a wee moment?”

 

“Of course.” Jesse gave some instructions to Emily and pulled Cassidy aside to sit on the pew. She left, eyeing Cassidy curiously before she exited the church. With the room all to themselves, Cassidy felt delightfully sinful. Their late night meetings were bleeding into the morning.

 

“Are you planning to make a confession, Cass?” the preacher asked suspiciously. “You don’t seem the type.”

 

“Err,” came his only response. He really wasn’t, but he was rapidly conniving new ways to get Jesse near enough to flirt shamelessly, and this was the most recent plan. “Yeah, I am,” he snipped. “You gonna listen?” Reclining in the pew, he attempted to look as debouched as possible--which, for his grungy, immortal self, was not difficult at all.

 

“It’s kind of my job,” Jesse said with a laugh. “Smoke?” Cassidy watched his deft fingers draw one from the pack and imagined all the things those fingers could do to him.

 

“I’d love one.” They each took a drag, Cassidy wondering how to start and Jesse wondering what on earth his brash, unapologetic friend would ever feel the need to confess. Cassidy opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, trying to find the words to begin. He scratched his head. It was near impossible to be subtle around Jesse; his very presence invited piety and honesty, qualities with which the vampire was neither familiar nor comfortable.

 

Clearing his throat, Cassidy realized he didn’t actually give a fuck about subtlety. “I broke one ‘a ‘da Ten, ya see. ‘Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor’.” He recited it like a good Catholic boy, shuddering as he recalled long Sunday mornings in Ireland spent regurgitating the doctrine. Jesse’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. Cassidy approached him from the side of his vision, chest lifting once in a brief, full exhale. “I’m Irish. They raised all of us Catholic. I can get on my knees good as any a’ ya.”

 

“So you admit that you’re a sinner?” he asked with a lopsided smile.

 

He nodded emphatically. “Ooh, absolutely. See, I keep lyin’ to my neighbor.”

 

“You live in an attic, Cass. No neighbors.”

 

Cassidy rolled his eyes and threw his arms wide. “Think metaphorically, Padre, doesn’t the Book recommend that? Picture your whole bloody flock.”

 

He rested his chin on one fist and his elbow on his knee, truly invested. “Continue.”

 

Cassidy simpered. He blinked slowly and bit his thumb nail, keeping eye contact with Jesse. “See, this neighbor o’ mine, I keep having impure thoughts about ‘em. Pure, dirty fucking. Everywhere.” He lowered his voice and his head, licking his lip and sucking slightly on his knuckle.

 

And Jesse _laughed_.

 

It was a full-bellied, bent-over kind of laugh that bounced off the high ceilings of the church. Cassidy stared, dumbfounded, as he wiped tears from the corners of his eyes and slapped his friend on the knee.

 

“Whew, I needed that. Thanks, Cass. Makes my job a lot more bearable.”

“I thought you loved your job,” Cassidy grumbled.  Divine intervention had probably thwarted his plans; no blasphemy in a church and all that nonsense.

 

“Of course I do,” Jesse reprimanded seriously. “But a few confessions like that really balance out the nasty ones, you know? Fake sins to make the real ones more tolerable.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

Jesse shook his head, still laughing uncontrollably, and stood. Cassidy looked up at him and tried not to scowl, but it all felt surreal and ridiculous. As the preacher left the church, his footsteps and chortles echoed continuously off the church’s walls. The wide doors shut loudly when he finally made his way out.

 

Flabbergasted, Cassidy stared at the altar with his mouth hanging open. He threaded his hands through his small amount of hair and switched his gaze to the fake gold cross on the wall, his all-access pass to God himself, supposedly.

 

“Oh, fuck me,” he said to it. Not as a prayer, he decided. More of a curse.

 

This was going to be harder than he’d expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Roman Catholic interpretation of the commandment: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thou_shalt_not_bear_false_witness_against_thy_neighbour#Roman_Catholic_doctrine
> 
> Who is ready for tonight's episode??


	3. Three

Cassidy was fucked.

 

Standing at the church entrance, he watched Jesse’s car approach with a mixture of anticipation and frustration. He nursed his beer, and he squinted even behind his sunglasses as the sun fell into its desert grave. Dusk was painting the church a smoky blue, and the last of the dying light was bouncing off the preacher’s face.

 

He was so fucked, and not even in the way he wanted.

 

Well, maybe a tiny bit in the way he wanted. Cassidy wasn’t a stranger to love, and he wasn’t guarded or cold or however the fuck immortals were supposed to feel about relationships. But he was, even as a human, very selective about his lovers. Jesse Custer happened to fit every small requirement, and Cassidy felt a little flutter whenever the man was around. Looking at Jesse felt the same as when he caught on fire; it was hot and under his skin, but the caress of flames was gentler than almost anything he’d ever experienced.

 

They met as they had for weeks now, with a nod from Cassidy at the stairs and an invitation to Jesse into his own church. As Jesse walked past him, Cassidy reached out to touch the small of his back and guide him inside, but the action felt too forward, even for him, so gave up with his hand swinging forlornly in the hot Texas air. Jesse didn’t seem to notice the way he bit his lip and shook his head at himself.

 

“Where’s dinner?” Jesse asked, spreading himself out on the pew. Cassidy wondered if he knew how ungodly _edible_ he looked or if he was oblivious to his effect.

 

“I had a different idea for tonight, if you’d humor me.”

 

“Oh Lord, this sounds dangerous.”

 

“Haa.” He stuck his tongue out at Jesse. “You can fuck off if you want and I’ll spend my money on myself.”

 

“ _Your_ money?”

 

Cassidy pretended to be hurt. “Callin’ me dishonest, Padre?”

 

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. His eyes glinted amusedly.

 

Cassidy shot him a mocking hum of laughter and a grimace. He edged closer to the preacher, hands at his sides. When he reached Jesse, he snatched his keys from his pocket. It was a split second, unstoppable and undoubtedly inhuman. But all Jesse did was purse his lips and grumble, staring down Cassidy’s back as he dangled the keys and walked toward the church doors. “And no bunny sounds this time!” he called over his shoulder.

 

Jesse’s brain finally caught up, and Cassidy heard the echo of his boots as he moved to join him. He took the keys out of Cassidy’s hand, and Cassidy tried not to linger on the warmth of his skin, or the scrape of blunt fingernails over his knuckles. The weight of his arm under Jesse’s, even for just a moment. He didn’t realize he’d stopped moving until he was on the steps and Jesse was out the car again, door thrown open.

 

“Christ, are you coming, Cass? I’m getting hungry.” Jesse laughed, ducking his head as he climbed into the driver’s seat.

 

Under his breath, Cassidy replied, “I wish,” and made his way to the passenger’s side.

 

They argued over the music, Cassidy giggling over the rubbish country song that ended up being Jesse’s favorite. Jesse didn’t think Irish music could beat anything from the States, but since Cassidy didn’t have any CDs, he couldn’t prove him wrong. He also refused to sing; that was reserved for early mornings when he was feeling particularly vulnerable.

 

Since Annville was about as big as a medium-sized shopping mall, the drive to the bar was not a long one. Cassidy lamented this; any time spent alone with Jesse Custer was time undoubtedly well spent. He adored watching Jesse drive, concentrated but still animated, discussing his hatred of the town’s police force with passion. The vampire leaned back in the seat with a wistful smile on his pale face and grunted with annoyance when they eventually parked.

 

“What, regretting the offer already?” Jesse asked while he cut the engine.

 

“Hell bloody no.” He paused. Cocked his head. “You’re stuck wi’ me.” Cassidy linked his hands behind his head and reclined in the seat, feet on the dashboard, to show Jesse just how much of him he was stuck with. Jesse laughed like he was embarrassed, looking down at the steering wheel as pink colored his cheeks.

 

Jesse shrugged. “I like having you around.” He was out of the driver’s side and onto the gravel path to the bar before Cassidy had a chance to respond.  If he had just stayed, he may have kissed him.

 

Grinning like a fool, Cassidy ran to catch up. They entered the bar together, Jesse shoving at Cassidy’s hands when he attempted to steal the preacher’s wallet.

 

“I thought _you_ were buying.”

 

“Oi, I was just borrowing.”

 

“You can _borrow_ from your own wallet,” Jesse said. He spread his arm wide and gestured for Cassidy to walk in front of him, less as a gentleman and more as a man concerned with the safety of his earnings.

 

The patrons were wary of the pair when they sat down, and for good reason. The last time they had been together in this room, they had sent three men to the hospital and a few more whimpering home. Being unwelcome in this establishment was one of the main reasons they had taken to imbibing at the church.

 

But Cassidy felt this occasion warranted something a little more special, if only he could bring it upon himself to _make it_ an occasion. A first date. “Get your shite together,” he grumbled to himself, and then waved the bartender over.

 

“Get us somethin’ _strong,”_ he ordered with a wild look to his companion. Jesse shook his head, chuckling, and allowed Cassidy to scoot his barstool closer.

 

The bartender did as he was told, with only a gentle warning not to get “too rowdy” that night. Cassidy and Jesse shared a good laugh at that, but gave their word all the same. Even after a few shots, they kept their wits about them; both were used to much stronger, courtesy of Cassidy’s ingenuity and inability to fix the air conditioner.

 

Three beers followed, and they could barely feel the sweltering heat of the bar, all the men and women pressed close and shouting. Two glasses of whiskey in, Cassidy had an idea. One bottle of Ratwater and a loud belch later, he decided to make that thought audible.

 

“We shoul’ dance.”

 

“What?”

 

Cassidy rolled his head around drunkenly, leaning it dramatically on the bar to keep it from spinning for just a moment. Jesse was squinting at him, so he motioned him closer. “You. Me. Dance,” he repeated simply.

 

Jesse opened his  mouth in slight surprise. They turned their upper bodies toward the makeshift dance floor of the bar, where couples were stepping and sliding happily around each other. Many of them wore cowboy hats and boots. Some had cropped flannel shirts and long, blonde hair. All of them were straight.

 

“Are you kidding?” Jesse asked, searching for the usual signs of Cassidy’s mischief in his eyes.

 

“Nooo,” he slurred. “Dead serious, I bloody well am. You got an answer?”

 

Jesse stared at him, head pushed forward like maybe he still wasn’t hearing correctly. His fingers drummed unconsciously on the bar, following the beat of whatever damn country song the patrons were enjoying. Cassidy was so sick of country songs.

 

“Yeah, no,” he finally said, turning his eyes back to his glass. He picked it up and frowned at the bottom when he realized it was empty.

 

Cassidy felt a spark of disappointment that was swiftly overtaken by the boldness supplied by cheap whiskey. He gathered himself up and shimmied off the barstool, smoothing his perpetually wrinkled jeans uselessly. “Alrighty ‘ten, have fun bein’ _boring_.” He emphasized the final word with a wink.

 

He was two steps closer to the dance floor when he felt a firm hand at the juncture of his shoulder and neck, pulling him toward the exit. His first response was to snap his elbow back, which was promptly blocked. “Not boring if you’re avoiding a fight.” Jesse released him, face sober. Cassidy huffed, pointing toward the bar and saying ‘what!’ and ‘why?’ in increasingly higher pitches as they left the bar.

 

Jesse didn’t speak until the car was unlocked and they were clambering in. He waited for Cassidy to relax before he looked at him, one elbow resting on the steering wheel. “This is Annville, Texas, Cass.”

 

“So?” Cassidy snapped, even though he knew. Crossing his arms, he slouched in the seat, inhaling the scent of Jesse and alcohol. “Boring’s the worst.”

 

The engine growled to life in place of further placations. Silence stretched between them, but it was not uncomfortable. Cassidy felt a distinct sense of home, which terrified him more than the thought of being a little bit in love with the preacher.

 

They were on the road when Cassidy realized they weren’t going back to the church.

 

“Ooh-hoo, takin’ me back to your place now?” He sat up, sober and alert and teeming with energy. He felt his breath hitch at the thought of inhaling the scent of alcohol _on_ Jesse.

 

“As a matter of fact, I am.”


	4. Four

Jesse did not generally eat breakfast; he usually woke up too late to make anything but coffee to hide the smell of the previous night’s alcohol. He also woke up too late to do anything but get dressed, run out the door, and hope to make it to the sermon in time. So when he opened his eyes to a room devoid of sunlight--someone had closed the curtains, because he never did--and smelled bacon in the kitchen, he was overwhelmingly confused.

 

He groaned as he sat up. Recovering from a night drinking was not hard, but one with Cass usually packed a little more punch. Joints snapping back into place as he moved, he downed the aspirin and tepid glass of water from his bedside table before he thought to figure out who put it there. There was a little note-card with a bleeding cartoon heart drawn on it next to the pill bottle. His brain hurt.

 

Without bothering to put a shirt on, he went to investigate this breakfast, mostly prompted by his growling stomach when his pounding head protested. Walking down his hallway, he initially registered that all of the curtains had been drawn tightly shut, and theorized that his guest was nursing a far more severe hangover than he was. His footsteps were silent, both a habit and an ingrained piece of training. It was not until he was standing in the kitchen and watching a lavish meal unfold in his dingy home did he remember who had come home with him.

 

“G’mornin’, Padre,” Cassidy greeted without pausing his excellent flip of an omelette.

 

Jesse could not help but stare.

 

The other man was wearing nothing but his own white socks, an apron from the diner, and those ever-present sunglasses. His hard muscles flexed naturally whenever he twisted to place more food on the table. His pasty white ass was also featuring prominently in Jesse’s line of sight. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. Contrary to what he thought might happen, Cassidy and the breakfast did not disappear.

“I have to burn that now. You owe me the cost,” Jesse said, pointedly jabbing a finger at Cassidy’s stolen outfit. He grabbed a piece of bacon and munched it thoughtfully; it was the best he’d had in his life. “And I can’t even imagine where you got all of...” He gestured around them. “...this.”

Cassidy eyed either him or the table; it was difficult to tell with the sunglasses on. “At least you can’t say I’m predictable, eh? Well, I’m not ta firs’ late night hook up to cook breakfas’ after, I s’pose.”

Jesse stopped eating and gaped. His heart hammered as he sifted through the hazy memories of previous night.

Cassidy cackled. “ _ Relax, _ nothin’ ‘appened, unless you count me gettin’ your shirt off so ya didn’ choke on it. Bloody collar is  _ tight,  _ innit?” He danced back to the frying pan and lit a cigarette on the burner’s flame.

They laughed together, awkwardness forgotten with the clinking arrival of silverware. Jesse knew he’d be cleaning up the mess, but the eggs he was consuming made it worth it.

“How’d you learn to cook like this?” asked the preacher, who had been taught how to crack open a man’s skull before he’d ever cracked an egg.

 

“Me mam, actually, but let’s not get into that,” replied the vampire, who had actually been taught by a gang of vampires in Dublin after he went to live with them and had been perfecting the art ever since.

“Did you eat?” Jesse asked, too late remembering to be polite to his guest as a good Christian.

Cassidy’s mouth quirked into a half smile and he held up a bottle of amber liquid, sloshing it around before taking a swig. “Breakfast called early,” he said, wiping his mouth on the apron. Jesse looked away just before the lack of fabric revealed anything he wouldn’t be able to forget.

Not one to judge consumption, Jesse just gave Cassidy a mildly reproachful look before digging back in. Somewhere along the way, coffee came, and Cassidy actually drank some of that. They sat across the table from each other, staring only when the other wasn’t.

“So was last night our first date?” Cassidy asked after he’d had a significant amount of whiskey and caffeine. He accompanied the question with a boisterous laugh that made Jesse doubt its sincerity. “If it was, you’re rather lousy. Didn’ even put out.” He smashed his cigarette on the table and smiled at the charred circle as if it was acceptable retribution.

 

“Ha ha,” Jesse retorted. “Stop fucking with my furniture.”

“Could fuck you  _ on  _ your furniture,” Cassidy offered with a wicked smile.

Lifting one eyebrow, Jesse brought his coffee to his lips and took a long sip, eyes never leaving Cassidy’s. Two could play at Cassidy’s games, and he wasn’t about to be the loser. It wasn’t as if Cassidy ever meant half of what his filthy mouth produced.

“Alright,  _ honey, _ ” Cassidy drawled, failing miserably at copying Jesse’s accent, or maybe a southern belle’s. It was too horrible to actually make out. “What’re you doing today? Or, what have I made you late for by making t’is?” 

“Not that I don’t appreciate it,” Jesse interjected, stabbing more bacon with his fork. “Actually.” He sat back and wiped his mouth with a napkin after setting down his silverware. Cassidy cocked his head. “Emily was supposed to meet me here. It’s suggestion day.”

“Ah, a’ the little minimart.”

 

As if on cue, the doorbell rang, and Jesse excused himself to answer it. Cassidy leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and listened to the pair exchange pleasantries at the door. Emily sounded as eager as ever, probably toting a casserole and coffee. She sounded flustered, likely on account of Jesse’s unprepared and shirtless state. Cassidy had often wondered how the man could be so blind to her flirtations, but after his own desperate attempts, he didn’t think she was the problem.

“Of course you can come in,” Jesse called, just a little too loud. It was probably for Cassidy’s benefit--a warning to put on a shirt and pants like a decent human being.

Seeing as Cassidy was neither decent nor human, he did neither, and remained in his claimed chair. He shifted until it was completely obvious that he was naked under the apron, and then waited. 

Emily’s shocked face when she got to the kitchen did not disappoint. “I--I didn’t realize you had company,” she stammered. The way she said  _ company  _ made it sound like a dirty word.

“Ay,” Cassidy acknowledged her insinuation with a subtle smile that only she caught. Her gaze darkened while Jesse, from over her shoulder, glared with frustration at his friend. Otherwise, he was perfectly stoic, one hand on Emily’s arm.

“He was just leaving. Weren’t you, Cass?”

“Sure,  _ darlin’. _ ”  He practically purred the words, stretching out to his full height unabashedly while he did so. Emily covered her face, mortified. “I’ll jus’ get my clothes. I  _ t’ink  _ I left them in your room. Or was it the hallway…” he trailed off inquisitively as he brushed past the preacher and the administrator, his eyes bright with mischief.

His clothes were actually in the bathroom where he’d left them in the early morning to shower, but Emily didn’t need to know that. Neither did Jesse, for that matter. He dressed slowly, reveling in his shenanigans and humming some country song from the bar.

“Why’d you do that to her?” Jesse asked, appearing in the doorway.

Cassidy sighed heavily. The man was clueless if he couldn’t see through this rather obvious display. “Jus’ a little fun,” he said after a beat, only some hurt coloring his tone.

Jesse touched his shoulder. “Not with her, okay? What’d I say about no more trouble? She’s not one for practical jokes.”

The vampire hummed. “Mm, alright, noted.”

“Thanks, Cass. For everything.”

 

Cassidy nodded and smiled lopsidedly as he tied his shoes. There was something so disarming about Jesse; he couldn’t help but follow his requests, even without his compelling force. However, years of troublemaking don’t simply go away, so when he reappeared, he was in his own jeans and vest, but with a new special addition of one of Jesse’s t-shirts.

“Ya don’ mind, do ya?” he asked Jesse. “I think mine is in tatters after las’ night.” He winked happily at Emily, who was completely speechless. Jesse shook his head, but there was laughter in his dark eyes.

Meeting his gaze, and then following the line of his jaw to his moist lips and the layers of stubble, Cassidy vowed to get that date before he did something  _ spectacularly  _ stupid.

That felt unlikely.


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x03 WAS SO GOOD
> 
> Comments and kudos are, as usual, appreciated. Enjoy!

Cassidy firmly believed that Jesse Custer was the most naive preacher to ever walk the godforsaken Earth, and he had met quite a few in his years. Because it was a warm Friday afternoon and he was currently laying across the man’s couch with his legs over his lap, tossing popcorn at him while they watched some new Hollywood blockbuster, and Jesse seemed more concerned with Cassidy’s opinions on the acting quality than the fact that he had a slightly mussed man draped halfway across him. Cassidy wasn’t even sure he knew the name of the movie. His only focus was Jesse and the bluish television light casting shadows across his Texas-tanned face.

 

Cassidy watched Jesse laugh at the movie, watched him smile when the couple predictably wound up happy and safe. He thought that smile--something so genuine and gentle--shouldn’t have been able to thrive on the face of someone as hardened and wounded as Jesse Custer. But there it was, and Cassidy couldn’t help but beam back at him. He didn’t even bother to stop himself this time. Jesse glanced over at him and threw another piece of popcorn.

 

“Admit it, you liked it.”

 

Cassidy wrinkled his nose. “Rubbish. Quite rubbish.” He kicked his feet up, giggling when Jesse shoved his legs. His fall from the couch was incredibly graceless, complete with grunting and empty promises of retribution.

He landed somewhere between the coffee table and the couch, somehow managing to avoid the edges of either one and slip right in the middle. Cackling, he shoved at the table until it moved, the beer rocking precariously atop it. Jesse uttered a warning that was drowned out by all their wheezing laughter, but the alcohol remained upright. Finally, he got enough space to sit up--which, granted, was not much for his thin frame--and did so, swaying as much as the beer bottles. Hands on his knees, he stared straight at the screen, a look of pure concentration upon his face.

“Cass?” Jesse asked, suddenly sobered. He looked between the man and the television, making no connection.

 

Without warning, a crazed smile painted Cassidy’s feature, and he opened up his mouth to sing the song rolling with the credits. Only belatedly did Jesse realize that the musical artist was Justin Bieber.

“No!” he shouted, just as Cassidy sprang up and crooned the first notes of ‘Baby.’ 

Jesse covered his face with his hands, filled to the brim with embarrassment, even as Cassidy tried to tug those arms away and make him stand. “Why, God?” he cried, only contributing to Cassidy’s efforts. Jesse was thankful he didn’t really have neighbors, or he’d have to explain the very Irish rendition of this deplorable song at 3 am to far too many people.

And then Cassidy had him standing, and he couldn’t entirely put together the moments between there and the couch; it all happened so fast and he was tipsy on more than just beer. The man was rocking his hip easily to the rhythm, still belting. Beyond the absurdity of it all, Jesse would admit his friend sounded and looked wonderful.

“Now, Padre,” Cassidy interrupted his own serenade to grab Jesse’s shoulders and look him square in the eyes. “I believe you owe me a dance.”

Dancing was pretty high up on a list of things Jesse Custer simply did not do. But Cassidy was dragging his hands down the preacher’s arms until he could grab his fingers, and then he was pulling him forward past all the furniture to the wider space of his dining room. The vampire’s voice was louder than the stereo now, but Jesse definitely preferred his over Bieber’s.

 

The preacher, as expected, did not do much dancing. He stood in place, only moving when Cassidy poked at his body and made him move. Cassidy, as expected, did a lot of dancing. The way he was built made it impossible for him to be graceful, but Jesse supposed that wasn’t the desired effect. They grinned until their faces hurt and then grinned some more. They laughed hysterically, pushing on each other as the song came to a close, trying to get one last step or shimmy from the other. Jesse did not budge; Cassidy did something that looked way too complicated for someone as lanky and bony as himself.

The final note sounded, and Cassidy whirled around, only to end up pressed against Jesse’s chest. Jesse threw his arms out to support him as they both lost some balance. Cassidy hoped that with his back to him, Jesse couldn’t see him blushing. Being this close to him made his body react in very obvious ways.

Jesse relaxed his grip and Cassidy, earns burning, was able to shuffle in a half-circle until they were face to face. The corners of his eyes were crinkled in amusement. His hair was more disheveled than Cassidy’s, even though the latter man had been rolling on the floor rather than lounging like the preacher.

“You’re insufferable,” Jesse accused good-naturedly. 

“Haa. I do my best.”

Five inches. Cassidy could lean in just five more inches and he would have the perfect space to kiss Jesse. He was distinctly aware of this, and so was his body. They were both humming with warm energy, ready to spark.

“What’s this one? I can barely hear it.” Jesse withdrew from him and Cassidy gasped, rushed with cool air and emptiness.

 

The preacher went to the table and used the remote to turn up the song. Cassidy did know it, and he had been singing along, but that wasn’t the bloody point. Though the idea that Jesse wanted to hear him sing put butterflies in his stomach, he would rather have no music than no preacher onto which he could hold.

While the credits rolled, Cassidy fucking humored him, singing beautifully when he wanted to impress Jesse and singing horribly off-key when he wanted to see him smile or laugh. He grunted in distaste when the screen went blank, signalling the movie’s finality, because it also meant the end to… whatever this had been. He was still unclear on that front.

Jesse was staring at his cell phone, perturbed. 

“What t’is it, Jess?” the vampire asked, flopping back down on the couch. He would prolong his stay for as long as he could. Maybe if he got comfortable enough, Jesse would come snuggle. He  would also maintain that fantasy for as long as possible.

“It’s Emily. Says I’m s’posed to go over to Eugene’s today.”

“Ooh, yah, the big Plan.”

Jesse sighed. “Yes, Cass, to be--”

“One o’ the good guys, yeah, yeah.  _ Or. _ ” He propped himself on the arm of the couch and swept his arm over himself. “You can spend the rest of the day bein’ charitable to  _ this. _ ”

“Christ. Insufferable,” Jesse chortled with a shake of his head.

 

Cassidy was beside himself. “Will you be at least be home for dinner?” he asked hopefully.

“I’ll be back at the church ‘round six, if that’s what you mean.”

Cassidy smiled. 


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally, the smut. We know you've been waiting for it. Filthy little gobshites.

“You  _ what _ ?” Jesse peered up from behind the sermon he was attempting to memorize, brows furrowed together as he beheld Cassidy. The man was rocking up and down on his heels, grinning at Jesse in a way that on most people would have been adorable but on him was downright disturbing.

 

“I wan’ ta take you ta dinner.” Cassidy enunciated each word as if speaking to a child, or perhaps slowing his accent in case that was the barrier in the preacher’s understanding. “Not the shite where we pass out on the pews after a few good bottles,  _ no,  _ I mean a real one.”

 

“I have  _ never  _ seen you eat,” Jesse retorted pointedly, and went back to his page.

 

Cassidy rolled his eyes. He had a fair point, but the gesture was one he always thought was a good first step. At least, it was much more subtle than just bending Jesse over the altar and getting straight to the point like he so desperately wanted. No, instead he had this recalcitrant, stubborn man to work with, and no Plan B in sight. He scuffed his shoes on the church floor and stared at the marks as if they held the answers, and then he gleefully snatched the papers away from Jesse.

 

“Hey!” Slowed by alcohol and exhaustion, his fingers barely brushed the documents as they left his grasp.

 

“I’ll make you a deal,” Cassidy shouted as he retreated. “You catch me, you get these back, and we forget I asked.” He wiggled his hips enticingly and Jesse groaned.

 

“And if I don’t?”

“Oh Jess, I t’ink we all know t’at answer.”

Jesse narrowed his eyes and stood. Cassidy loved watching him calculate the situation, envision the movements their bodies would make before the game even began. He rolled up his shirtsleeves carefully before rubbing his palms over his face and blinking heavily.

Cassidy moved a second before he did. Jesse actually launched himself over the wooden bench, but his drunkenness affected his abilities enough that his foot caught it slightly. He went down but scrambled back up just as fast, yelling obscenities at his friend. Cassidy smirked and cackled, slipping out of reach over and over. They ran between the aisles, laughing and shouting and panting until Jesse slumped down against the wall and glared, defeated.

“Alright, you won. Happy?” Cassidy certainly was, even if being a vampire gave him a distinct advantage.

“Now, how do I know you aren’t jus’ goin’ ta take t’ese from me the minute I get over t’ere?” Cassidy asked sardonically. He used the pile as fan, crumpling them accordingly. “And then claim you’re ta winner?”

“I’m a man of my word,” he admitted, and held out his hand for a truce.

“A man of  _ God’s  _ word, t’as very different,” Cassidy said with widened eyes. He approached Jesse all the same, licking his lips and humming.

 

In hindsight, it was rather predictable, but Cassidy still felt his heart stutter in shock when Jesse grasped his hand and easily pulled him to the floor. He surged down in a long trail of lanky limbs and Gaelic curses. “Jesus Christ!” he shouted as Jesse rolled him to his stomach and twisted his arm behind his back, reclaiming the papers. They were torn in places, likely illegible at parts, but he supposed the principle was more important at this point.

Jesse did not remove himself. Breathing heavily, he released Cassidy’s arm so it was no longer painful, but his knees remained bent and pressed into the floor around the other man’s hips, straddling him. Cassidy put his palms to the floor and waited silently, heat pooling into his stomach. The preacher’s hands settled beside Cassidy’s head and he leaned over more, applying just a little more pressure, sliding their bodies just a little closer. Cassidy stifled a gasp.

“I don’t reckon you ever wanted dinner, Cass,” Jesse whispered. It was so loud in the otherwise silent room.

He spoke directly to the floor, the question followed by a nervous but excited chuckle. “Hah, what makes you t’ink that?” 

Jesse shifted so he could reach his hand beneath Cassidy and maneuver it between his thighs. That gasp, Cassidy could not help but make audible. It echoed off the high ceilings, blending with the scrape of his jeans on the hardwood floor.

“‘S about time.” He cleared his throat when his voice wavered, and then sucked in a breath between his teeth. The jeans between his body and the preacher’s hand were becoming a horribly uncomfortable nuisance. Jesse’s breath was hot in his ear, but Cassidy needed that mouth somewhere else. “They teach you how ta’ get on your knees in Sunday school, hm?” He pushed his hips back, smirking when Jesse moaned behind him. He thought he might come from that sound alone.

Jesse pushed his hand beneath Cassidy’s shirt, dragged his nails down his back. His fingers followed the curve of Cassidy’s hips until finally tugging at the zipper on his jeans.

A relieved groan broke past Cassidy’s lips when the cold air bit at his bare skin. He heard, rather than saw, his jeans hit the floor--his eyes were closed, body lost in the feeling of Jesse’s palm wrapped around him. Jesse pushed Cassidy’s ragged white shirt to his shoulders, mouth finding the protruded bones of his spine. His hands pulled greedily at the other man’s legs, spreading his shaking thighs apart. He bit at Cassidy’s hip, hard enough to bruise. Cassidy hoped there would be one in the morning.

 

Cassidy’s nails scraped at the wooden panels on the floor, head bent low as Jesse reached the end of his spine, moved lower.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he cried out, knees slipping. Jesse’s hand was still on him, slow and deliberate and wicked. “Fuck.”

Cassidy  _ felt  _ Jesse smile, and he whimpered, fully and unapologetically. His stomach clenched, warmth washing through his core. Toes curling, Cassidy bit his lip and reached down, wrapping his hand around Jesse’s. “I hope they didn’ teach ya  _ this _ in Sunday school,” he panted. “Good  _ God. _ ” He pulled at Jesse, begging the preacher to move faster. Cassidy’s shoulders were almost touching the floor, and he was muttering a colorful collection of obscenities and unintelligible pleas to the man behind him. When he came, it was without shame or warning; a sudden burst of heat and he was falling forward, mouth opening in a shout that he thought everyone in Annville could have heard. Beneath his labored breaths, he heard Jesse laugh and the unbuckling of a belt.

“If tha’s what your mouth can do, you have ta’ show me what the rest of you can accomplish.” 

Cassidy lifted himself from the floor, turning to face his lover. Jesse was flushed, neck a deep red that was climbing high on his cheeks. He slumped against the wall, the hand still slick from Cassidy’s cum dipping beneath his waistband. Cassidy stared, transfixed. He licked his lips unconsciously, watching the way Jesse’s breath hitched as he touched himself; the way his lip quivered and neck bent back, exposing his throat.

Cassidy surged forward, almost tripping over his own lanky limbs, and definitely stumbling over his discarded jeans. Jesse’s laugh echoed through the church again, but it was swiftly transformed into a groan as Cassidy’s lips met his. Cassidy’s hands followed, ghosting over Jesse’s cheeks before covering his neck, thumbs pressed under his chin. It was not a gentle kiss--teeth scraped and tongues fought and lips bruised. Biting at Cassidy’s earlobe, Jesse pulled them both up. Cassidy took the opportunity to slam the other man against the wall, grinning at the gasp he elicited.

“Next time, I’m going ta’ bend ya over the bloody pew and fuck ya senseless.”

“Be my guest, Cass,” Jesse offered nonchalantly. But the subtleties, the parting of his lips and the arching of his back and the pounding of his heart; Cassidy would give up a year of blood for those.

He dropped to his knees, not interested in anything but Jesse in his mouth. Pulling his pants and boxers down to his ankles in one swift motion, he pressed chaste kisses to the juncture of Jesse’s hip and thigh, breathing him in. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, more than anything Cassidy had ever created with that fucking air conditioner.

Jesse’s head hit the wall with a resounding thud, and he sucked at his bottom lip to muffle a deep moan. Then he was quiet, letting his body appreciate what Cassidy was doing to him. His fingers tightened in the vampire’s hair, tugging him forward. Cassidy hummed appreciatively, taking him fully in. Hips snapping forward, Jesse gave himself over.

Cassidy could feel himself getting hard again. He pressed a hand over himself, lamenting the fact that Jesse’s house was so far away, that he wasn’t obscene enough to carry lube or stupid enough to carry condoms. He figured they were doing alright without them, though.

 

Jesse was rocking forward now, a leisurely rhythm. Cassidy almost laughed--he had about 93 years of experience, and stalled thrusts weren’t going to help the preacher last longer.

Cassidy groaned and whimpered around him, only partially for show. He hadn’t felt like this in years. Giddy, sated, appreciated, overwhelmingly aroused. Jesse tugged at his hand, which was tracing patterns on his chest. “Cass, I’m… ” Jesse trailed off, eyes meeting Cassidy’s. He came immediately, a shocked cry bursting past his throat. Cassidy swallowed before falling back, never breaking eye contact with the other man. His thumb traced his swollen bottom lip, and he sucked on it before Jesse tore his eyes away, body sagging to the floor.

“What kind of a preacher are you?” Cassidy inquired again, breathless. He nudged at Jesse’s chin with his nose, pushing his head back enough to suck a mark into his nape before sliding next to him on the wall. After a moment, he murmured into the air, “Padre, I think I have some sins to confess.”

Jesse chuckled. 

“I’ve been tryin’ ta do this ta’ right way, with all the courtin’ and whatnot, but you’re a right daft fucker, Jesse Custer.”

Said daft fucker rested his elbows on his knees and eyed Cassidy sideways, shaking his head as he bit the inside of his cheek. “Is that so?” His accent drawled each syllable out.

“I’tis so,” Cassidy reciprocated in a high-pitched rush. “I even bought ya a drink, ‘n ya jus’ walk’d ‘way.” His accent thickened as he became more animated. “Said g’night ‘n--”

“That day at the church.” Jesse interrupted.

Cassidy rolled his eyes. “Which one?”

“When I made you do all those things, and we smoked for an hour.”

A hand waved him on.

“You didn’t kiss me.”

“Ya didn’ ask me ta’.”

“Didn’t ask you to do that, either.”

“Fair point,” Cassidy conceded, pulling his jeans back on so he could fish a cigarette out of his pocket. He tucked it between his lips and smirked before thinking better of it and spitting it out. “Jess?”

“Mm?”

“Ya can kiss me now.”

And he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though this is the end for this fic, you may always give us prompts! Feel free to message us on tumblr--we are now running an official "fuckyeah" (fuckyeahjessidy.tumblr.com) blog!


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